Vampire Academy
by LadyOfThePens
Summary: The tiny meddler, a.k.a Desmond Tiny sends six vampires on a mission to infiltrate a human school. But it might not be a regular school, in fact, strange things are going on there; for example, there's a weird scarred kid running about. Name? Harry Potter
1. Tiny Meddler

**Author's note:**

**Hiya! Welcome to the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Cirque du Freak/ The Darren Shan Saga or Harry Potter, wish I did, though…**

**Apologies for langual problems, I live in Sweden, we don't actually **_**speak **_**English here. Or we do, but only from the third year. I should probably stop talking…**

**1. Tiny Meddler**

_Many things tend to change, often quite rapidly. There are, of course, also things that hardly ever changed. One of those was vampires._

_But if you were the Tiny Meddler, there was an exception to every rule…_

* * *

><p>Mika Ver Leth, vampire prince, rarely admitted that he could be frightened of anything. Being frightened was for lesser beings; like the vampaneze, or humans. Yet, there was one thing he could truthfully say made him want to hide behind the closest object. The thing he was frightened of went by many names; the most common name being Desmond Tiny.<p>

"What do you want, Desmond?" Paris Skyle, the oldest vampire alive, coolly asked. By the black blood of Harnon Oan, how could he be so calm around this man?

"I have come with a mission." Mr Tiny loudly announced. "A mission in which six vampires must participate."

"What is this mission? And which are the questers?"

* * *

><p>A few minutes later; six confused vampires stood in the Hall of the Princes; Mika Ver Leth, Larten Crepsley, Vancha March, Darren Shan, Kurda Smalth and Arra Sails, the two latter giving each other suspicious looks.<p>

"What is the meaning of this? Why have you called us here?" Larten asked, slightly irritated from having to wake up before the sun went down.

"The mission is; to infiltrate a human school, to learn the ways of young humans, to find new recruits for your lines. Otherwise, when the great war is upon us, you will loose."

"Well, that's not gonna work." Darren pointed out after a long, embarrassed silence. "These guys are old."

Mika silently smacked the younger prince's head; something he'd taken to doing whenever Darren said something stupid. His meant that, most days, Darren had a constant throbbing headache. Mr Tiny sneered at the vampires, dramatically pulling his watch from one of his coat pockets.

"Have a nice time in school." I grinned wickedly, swinging the clock back and forth in front of the vampires. He chuckled dryly. "And, to be honest, I hope all hell breaks loose, it's much more entertaining that way."

* * *

><p>Bolting to an upright position, wincing from the expected thud he'd get from, once again, managing to bump his head into the lid of his coffin, Mika got ready to sigh dramatically over his weird dreams. Rubbing his forehead, two things came into the dark prince's notice; Firstly, he wasn't in his coffin, he was in a loud, crowded place. And secondly, he seemed to have shrunk dramatically.<p>

"Charna's elbow!" Mika wailed, knocking someone over in the process.

"Hey, watch it!" the someone yelled.

He stood up, clenching his fist, then he looked at Mika with an odd expression. "Mika? Is that you?" he asked.

"Of course it's me, why wouldn't it be?"

"You're a kid." there was something familiar about this boy. A whiff of stink, gave him away.

"Vancha!"

The princes howled in absolute horror.

* * *

><p>Torn between the urge to scream and run, and to laugh himself silly, Mika eyed the children before him. Firstly, there was Vancha; a reddish complexion, as always, and a mess of green hair, dressed in too big purple animals hides. Next to him was a sour-looking, gangly red-head whose hair desperately needed a cutting. The only girl stood next to him, holding his hand and nervously twirling her long dark hair between two fingers. She was sending murderous glances towards the blonde on her other side, daring him to get any closer. And then there was Darren, hardly changed at all; his face was rounder, and he'd lost several inches, but otherwise there was nothing different. Mika dreaded what he'd look like…<p>

* * *

><p>The boy staring back at him in the dirty mirror was thin and lanky, long black hair covering most of his face, but what was visible of it was quite handsome, despite its tender age.<p>

"By the black blood of Harnon Oan." Larten had started pacing back and forth, stumbling over their trunks. "This is very bad."

They should have expected something like this; after all, Desmond tiny was involved and known for creating disaster whenever it suited him to do so. They really should have expected this.

"You know, this could be much worse." Darren tried to brighten up their situation. "We're alive, and stuff-" he shut up when Arra elbowed him in the ribs.

"Where does this train go, anyway?" Kurda asked, squinting at the sign, none of the ex-vampires could read, Darren was the only one who'd learned.

"It says…um… Hogwarts Express." Darren read. "What does that even mean?"

"Why would a train be heading towards a warty hog" Larten asked, quite loudly.

"Hey Fred, look, first years!" a ginger boy said, grinning widely.

"How come they're always shrinking?" his twin asked.

"Just kidding." the first twin smiled. "My name's Fred."

"And I'm George. You'll know which is me because I'm much better-looking."

"Nice to meet you." Mika shook their hands simultaneously.

"Want some help with your stuff?" George asked, producing a brown paper bag from a pocket. "Nosebleed nougat?"

Mika shook his head, and with the help of the ginger twins, he, and the others, managed to coax their luggage into an empty apartment of the train, where the vampires trashed at the seats.

"See you." the twins grinned, leaving the former vampires to themselves.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to sleep." Vancha declared, spreading out on the, in his opinion, soft floor.

**Author's note:**

**Well, that's that. This was the first chapter.**

**Please review. Anyone has an idea what houses they should be in? Then tell me.**


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's note:**

***telephone voice* you've reached this chapter. Your call is very important to us, and we'll attend to it in a minute. *beep***

* * *

><p><strong>2. The Hogwarts Express<strong>

Not seldom; Draco Malfoy was seen sneering, actually, sneering was him most ordinary expression. A less common expression, however, was one of genuine humour. Yet, this was the only thing he could think of doing on sighting this strange fellow first years. Judging by the look of them; they were filthy mud bloods. Ragged hand-me-down clothes, much too big for them, and, aha, a ginger. That must be a Weasley. Draco slid the apartment door open, stepping in without an invitation.

"Crabbe. Goyle." his thugs followed him obediently. "Look at this; it's an entire loser convention." he gestured vaguely towards the students.

His followers laughed stupidly. Gods, they were dumb! But a pureblood couldn't be too careful even in this times, and they had _some _potential. Not much, but there were some.

"What d' you mean?" a boy with untidy black hair growled furiously.

"Yeah." the bloke lying on the floor added. "What d' you mean?"

"Oh, nothing." Draco snorted. "Hogwart's really gone to the dogs, right Goyle?"

"Um, yeah…" the thug wrinkled his forehead in frustration. "Right."

Why couldn't brains and muscles be connected? Then he wouldn't have to deal with nonsense like this.

"We would be very pleased if you could have the kindness to leave us." the Weasley said in a funny manner, sounding very old-fashioned.

"Would you now, Weasley?" Draco sneered.

The ginger looked very confused, and upset in being such. "My name is not Weasley."

"There's only _one _wizard-family that looks like you; red hair, hand-me-down clothes and a stupid complexion. Tell me, Weasley, you're not actually as stupid as you look, are you?"

"Leave him alone!" the dark-haired girl stormed to her feet, staring him down furiously. "He's never done anything to you!"

"Hey, look, Weasley! You've got yourself a mudblood girlfriend. Suits your kind, a mudblood for the blood traitor."

A flash of white danced before Draco's eyes as he sat up; rubbing his newly beaten nose. "Am I bleeding?" he gasped.

Crabbe leaned closer, inspecting his pale face. "No." came the answer.

"I thought I might-" Draco muttered his way to silence.

There was a brief silence, under which Crabbe and Goyle shifted nervously, quite obviously trying to figure out whether they should have done something about Malfoy getting hit or not. They didn't seem to get much of a progress.

"Have you heard?" a third year stuck his head in the apartment. "Harry Potter's on the train."

Harry Potter? How interesting…

"Lucky for you, Weasley, my attention is needed elsewhere; somewhere important." Draco made a hurried escape, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, the two latter pushing anyone smaller than them roughly out of their way.

"Where's Potter?" he asked a shivering boy.

"That way." the boy stammered, clutching a toad to his chest.

Pushing him out of his way, causing the stuttering, chubby boy to drop the toad, Malfoy set out to find Harry Potter and claim him to the so-called `dark side´ of Slytherin House.

* * *

><p>"How are you?" Hermione Granger asked the devastated boy.<p>

"Oh, grandmas' going to kill me. I lost Trevor, that's my toad. Could you help me?"

Hermione gave him a toothy smile. "Sure thing. My name's Hermione Granger." she extended a hand to him.

"Neville Longbottom." the boy took her hand, blushing vigorously.

"So, Neville. Where do you think Trevor went to?"

* * *

><p>Bursting open yet another pair of apartment doors, Hermione was starting to feel somewhat annoyed.<p>

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville lost one." she asked.

The travellers didn't seem to have heard her, they kept talking to each other, most of the conversation between two of the boys.

"-I own your soul." the ginger boy said matter-of-factly. "However, I do agree; Arra truly made that ferret-like boy look _quite _silly."

"Thank you. Someone has to stick up for you worthless men." the only girl present grinned, earning a punch from the redhead.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Hey! I'm looking for a toad, anyone seen it?"

"I do not think so." Larten replied.

"Nah, Vancha would've known. His only friends are toads." a boy with long dark hair grinned.

Hermione sighed, obviously these cretins hadn't seen Trevor.

"Goodbye, then." she was about to leave when the black-haired boy spoke again.

"Do you need some help?" he asked. "Finding the frog, I mean."

"Toad." Hermione corrected him.

He shrugged. "You say potato, I say potato. It's all the same."

"If you want to, you can tag along." Neville added shyly.

"Let's go then. Name's Mika."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**This chapter turned out a bit of a short one. I'll probably compensate by writing a long one for the next time… Probably…**


	3. Sortings

**Author's note:**

**This chapter is brought to you by Kurda Smalth, for all your map-making needs. And all Harry Potter quotes don't belong to me, they belong to J.K Rowling. Just like Darren and the gang belong to Darren Shan… *sigh* Why?**

* * *

><p><strong>3. Sortings<strong>

Kurda Smalth fought down a grin.

"You look nice." he lied.

"I do not like these human clothes." Larten tugged at the lining of his grey uniform-shirt. "Why do we even have to wear these abominable outfits?"

"Yeah." Vancha agreed. "They're itchy."

Kurda sombrely shook his head, the price could truly be stupid. "You'll just have to deal with them." Turning to Mika, smiling wickedly he added, in a sly voice; "So, Mika, how'd it go?"

Mika struggled his way into his jumper before glaring at the blonde. "What, exactly, do you mean?" he growled.

"The girl, of course. Any success?"

The dark prince let this comment pass by, mainly due to the fact he was being busy trying to strangle Darren for laughing.

"Are we there yet?" Darren, slightly blue in the face, moaned a few minutes later.

"Does it look like I know?" Arra snapped at him.

"No." Darren murmured. "It looks like you don't know anything."

"I don't think it's such a great idea to mess with someone who could tear you apart limb from limb." Vancha very helpfully pointed out. "Mess with Kurda instead, he probably can't hurt you even if he wants to."

_Offensive!_ Kurda snorted at the green-haired boy, still on the floor.

"The train is slowing sown." Larten said. "We must be getting close."

As soon as the train had came to a halt; the former vampires scattered out onto the platform, Vancha even climbed through the window, and greedily sucked in the cool air.

"Freedom!" Vancha howled dramatically before promptly falling down from the window and onto the stone.

"You okay down there?"

They all stared at the huge man that had spoken. He was holding a lantern the size of a small dog and sported a bushy beard and even bushier hair.

"Yeah." Vancha groaned. "I just broke my brain…"

"No harm done, then." Larten grinned.

"You're first years, aren't ya?" the giant smiled at them.

"Yes, sir." Mika was the first to answer.

"Great. Just wait a sec.' Oi! First years over here!"

Soon a group of children had formed around the giant; including the ferret-like boy and his thugs, and that Hermione-girl.

"Follow me." the giant proclaimed, starting to make his way right away.

The first years obediently followed in his tracks, too nervous to do anything else, or to question why they weren't going the same way as everyone else. Quite soon; Kurda started to make a mental map to ease the boredom. First a right, then one more, then a left; Kurda carefully traced every road and path they came across.

* * *

><p>"We have to <em>sail<em>?" Larten looked paler than usually.

"Seems so." Darren said. Grinning, he added; "Scared?"

"No." Larten snarled. "Seasick."

In some way; they managed to cross the water without any accidents, reaching a castle, perilously hanging over the dark waters. Once they came ashore; Larten threw himself at the ground, looking positively green.

* * *

><p>A couple of minutes later, all the new students were cramped up in a sort-of-closet; where a stern-looking professor had firmly told them to wait. They were all trying to tidy up, even though not all were successful. A boy with unruly black hair kept on trying to flatten it down, but every time he removed his hands, the hair just wouldn't keep down. At his side, a boy with red hair was rubbing dirt of his nose, but still some black specks stayed there.<p>

And then there was Vancha… The green-haired prince was standing in a corner, wearing a depraved expression; the professor had magically washed him, and now the prince was in chock.

_Argh!_

Kurda silenced his cry of terror, as a pearly white, slightly transparent figure broke through the stone wall and continued to soar right through the blonde, followed by several others.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-" what looked like a fat little monk said.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not even really a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?" a ghost wearing a ruff and tights noticed the children staring at them.

"New students! The Fat Friar smiled. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

Kurda nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old house, you know."

"Move along now." the stern professor had returned. "The sorting ceremony is about to begin."

They were lined up and led into a big hall; which's ceiling was star-spangled and looked like the night sky outside.

"It's enchanted." Hermione whispered loudly. "I read about it in Hogwarts a History."

Kurda was embarrassed by all the older students staring at them as they walked down the hall, towards a stool with a hat placed on top. Why was there a hat in the great hall? And why were all eyes on it? A rip opened at the hat's base, and it started to sing;

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find _

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall-"_

The hat sang for quite some while, and when it stopped, the great hall exploded in applauds.

The stern professor stepped forward, holding a roll of parchment in her hands.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she said. "Abbot, Hannah."

Moments later Hannah Abbot had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Why is the hat speaking?" Darren whispered.

"No idea." Kurda replied.

Some time later; there was a call of; "Crepsley, Larten."

Larten, still tinted green, carefully approached the stool, eying it suspiciously. He sat down less then a second before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

So the list went on; sorting all of the vampires into Gryffindor. Then it was Kurda's turn to be sorted.

* * *

><p>"<em>Interesting." the hat whispered in his ear.<em>

"**What is?"**

"_You are. Your friends all were Gryffindor-material, but you're different. You're eager to learn, you're a particularly good finder, you believe in peace."_

"**But what does that mean?"**

"_It means you would be a Hufflepuff."_

"**But my friends, they're in Gryffindor."**

"_In Hufflepuff, you can make new friends. Friends that are just like you."_

"**Like me? Well… Okay."**

"Hufflepuff!" the hat called out to the entire hall.

Kurda blushed, avoiding his fellow vampire's accusing gazes as he sat down next to Hannah Abbot at the Hufflepuff table.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Oh, poor Kurda. The others won't look brightly at his becoming a Hufflepuff. And also, for those poor souls who got confused of the "particularly good finder"-comment, you should go look up A very Potter musical, it's worth the effort. **


	4. The Art of Making Friends

**Author's note:**

***dramatic voice* I have returned! Missed me? *watches as everyone raise their hands* Yay! Feeling the love!**

* * *

><p><strong>4. The Art of Making Friends<strong>

Ron just couldn't stop staring at the ginger sitting a few places from him, even forgetting to eat in his confusion. When Ron didn't eat; it usually meant something awfully horrible was at stake. Or that someone kept him away from his food. This time it meant the other ginger was giving him the creeps.

"Harry," he whispered, nudging his new-found friend. "Is there something odd about that guy?" he vaguely gestured towards the creep.

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps there is. But you shouldn't judge him just yet, you haven't even met him yet."

"Well, no. But he looks weird."

"Are you saying those others aren't? And besides, first impressions are usually wrong."

"Fine, I'll meet him first." Ron growled. Then he put on a polite smile and reached across the table. "Hi. My name's Ron Weasley."

The other ginger cautiously shook his hand. "Larten Crepsley. It is a delight to meet you."

Was this guy serious?

"Right…" Ron reached back, grabbing a mince pie. "Weird." he told Harry, before munching into the pie. "This is delicious."

Soon, all thoughts of creepy strange kids had escaped Ron's mind, the youngest Weasley gleefully eating his fill of all the different foods, even eating the peppermints. This earned him a glare from Percy; the older brother was such a pest. Not _all_ his older brothers was stuck-up snobs like Percy, thank the Wizard Gods. At least Fred and George were fun.

"Oi, Ron!" named twins threw a baked potato in his head.

"What d' ya want?" Ron hissed.

"Have you heard? That Malfoy got beat by a girl, and she's a Gryffindor." George kept on talking, accompanied by Fred grinning and nodding.

"It's true." the other twin said. "I saw it."

"I wish I could have seen that. It's the sort of thing you'd cherish for life…"

The dark-haired subject looked at the gingers, creases appearing on her forehead. "Don't you know gossiping is bad?" she sneered at them.

All the Weasleys could do was grin sheepishly at her. "No." Fred replied sweetly.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, in the Hufflepuff common room, a blonde first year sat at a table, drawing a map or something. Cedric Diggory thought it his responsibility as a fellow Hufflepuff to help this newcomer to feel at home.<p>

"Hi." Cedric smiled as he sat down, opposite of the blonde. "My name's Cedric."

The blonde boy looked up in confusion at him. "Oh. Hi." he blushed, obviously not expecting someone to come up and talk to him. "Kurda."

"I find that an interesting name. So, how are you liking Hogwarts?"

"It's confusing. I don't know how I'm ever going to find my way in here."

Cedric chuckled. "I thought so when I first came here. But don't worry, you'll get used to it, eventually."

Kurda laughed out loud, a genuine smile staying on his face during the rest of their conversation.

"Where are you from?" Cedric asked.

"I don't remember…" Kurda looked embarrassed at this, but he still beamed at the older boy. "It's been quite some time."

This was odd, considering it was coming from an eleven-year-old, but Cedric put no greater thought in this. "Why are you sitting here all by yourself?" he asked instead.

"I'm not, you're keeping me company."

"That's not what I mean. Why weren't you making friends with some of the other first years?"

Kurda blushed again. "I don't know how to make friends…"

"Then I'll teach you. C'mon, it'll be great."

Cedric looked around the room, finally letting them stop at a girl, huddled up in an armchair, reading an awfully coloured book, called `Lord Loss.´

"Aha, there's a nice girl. Go talk to her." he gave the boy a nudge in that direction.

Kurda turned bright red, pleadingly looking back at Cedric. "Hi." he almost-whispered, as if the girl would rip his throat if he spoke to her.

"Hi!" The girl. "What do you want?" she asked, squinting at Kurda through a too-long fringe.

"I- What are you reading?"

"Um, a book?" the girl suggested, then laughed. "It's sort of hard to explain."

"Tell me anyway." Kurda sat down at the chair's arm. "I wasn't doing anything. I'm Kurda, by the way."

The girl smiled again. "Sabina."

Cedric chuckled merrily, Kurda had officially mastered the art of making friends; both the blonds sat in the chair, talking about different books and stories, getting caught in a loud argument over what they thought really should have happened in some disgusting book that went by the name of `Twilight.´

"It would have been more interesting that way." Sabina insisted, prompting on how someone called Edward and a Jacob should have fought each other.

"But it would probably make that Bella-what's-her-face go into another of those emo moods." Kurda insisted, not having read Twilight.

"She's funnier that way; 'cause she's not going on and on about how beautiful Ed-weird is."

At this point, Cedric stopped listening to what they were saying, only watching out in case Kurda did something stupid. That boy was a natural…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Wow, my friend made a cameo. I might be making one, too. But I'm totally a Gryffindor. Sabina's actually a Rawenclaw, but I think she'll forgive me, considering she got to talk to Kurda. And anyone offended by my hating on Twilight; please, no flamers. Don't like, don't read. Everyone else; feel free to review at any point. **


	5. Illiterate

**Author's note:**

**I've retuned. Please note that my friend didn't kill me putting her in the chapter. That's really quite nice; not to be dead. Turns out, she didn't read last chapter. Not yet she haven't anyway, so I still might get killed. :(**

* * *

><p><strong>5. Illiterate<strong>

Larten sighed, looking at the unreadable words in the book. He had no idea what it was about, not even the title. It was frustrating to see the rest of the class easily reading their way though those yellowy pages. Sighing once more, Larten closed the book, a little more violently than necesary, and pushed it away.

"What are you doing?" his neighbour whispered. "Professor McGonagall's gonna kill you if you don't concentrate,"

"I am aware of that, Dean. It is just a tiny problem; I cannot read." Larten confessed.

"You can't?" Dean cried, a little louder than necessary. "Why?" he asked in a more hushed tone.

"I never had any reason to do so. Things are different where I come from."

"But what're you gonna do? You have to read to get any grades."

"I know that." Larten snapped. "Do not think I have not given this a thought."

"Sorry, I didn't-" Deans voice trailed of as he received a poisonous glare from professor McGonagall.

Larten silently nodded, once more fixing his eyes on the words he could not read. It was enough to drive anyone insane. Furiously creasing his brow, he threw the book away, over the classroom.

* * *

><p>Had class been a torture; it was nothing compared to detention. Larten was supposed to help in the library, to put books in their place. He stared blankly at a book cover, as though he could make something out of it by staring at the scrambled letters long enough.<p>

"I didn't tell you to stop, Mr Crepsley." professor McGonagall glowered.

"But-" Larten begun.

"No `buts.´ That book goes over there." the professor sternly interrupted the orange-haired boy.

Larten pushed the book in place, hesitantly following the gold letters with his fingers, staring at the words he did not understand.

"What are you doing?" McGonagall huffed.

"Professor," Larten asked shyly. "What does it say?"

"What does _what _say?"

"This book. What is it about?"

"I believe the title is quite clear."

"I am sure it is. Only, I cannot read." Larten felt himself blushing as red as the clothes he usually wore.

Professor McGonagall stared at him through her squared glasses. "You don't know how to read?" she repeated.

Larten just shook his head, feeling the shame sting in his eyes. "Sorry."

The professor shook her head, too, in disbelief..

"Follow me Mr Crepsley." she turned her back and started leaving the library. "You can leave the books."

* * *

><p>In order to keep up with her; Larten had to half-run.<p>

"Where are we going, professor?" he panted.

"To the headmaster's office."

"Am I going to be expelled?"

"I shouldn't think so. Why would you be expelled?"

"If I cannot read the books, then how am I to learn the spells I am supposed to learn?"

"We couldn't expel you for that." McGonagall almost smiled at him, patting his orange mop of hair. "I would think the headmaster will help you learning to read."

He was, finally, going to acquire the knowledge he had been lacking all these years! He would be able to read Shakespeare by himself, not having to ask Evanna read it for him. Had it not been impossible, he could have exploded with joy.

"Thank you, professor!" he hugged the stunned McGonagall, before pulling away, feeling stupid. It was not like him to be this emotional; he must have spent too long time together with Darren. "Excuse me, professor." he mumbled, silently cursing himself for having become a wimp.

"Sherbet Lemon." McGonagall said, coming to a sudden halt.

That was a strange thing to say. Larten stared at his professor as if she'd suddenly grow fangs and kill him.

"Don't worry, Mr Crepsley." Larten could not figure whether she was referring to the hug or her strange response; talking to walls was not exactly a normal thing to do. "It's the password to the headmaster's office."

A statue jumped to the side, revealing a spiral staircase.

"Hop along now." McGonagall shoved him towards the stairs.

_Well, here goes nothing, _Larten thought. _We are off to see the wizard… _the line just showed up in his head, and he vaugely recalled Darren having sung something similar once.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I FOUND it very funny writing Larten. And just so we are clear, he, and Mika, are mine. And partially Virvelmaster's...**


	6. Keeping Watch

**Author's note:**

**Sorry I've been late on updating. But I was re-reading the Cirque du Freak Saga, and on book nine I got into a state of denial… Everyone who's read the whole saga will know why… **

**6. Keeping Watch**

Albus Dumbledore smiled kindly at the boy with the luminous orange hair. The boy; Larten, sat squinting at the words, struggling to remember what he'd learned.

"It says; _Never tickle a sleeping dragon. _What is **that **supposed to mean?"

Albus chuckled. "It's the school motto; _Draco dormiens nunquam titilandus_. Oh, now you're learning Latin, too."

"Who came up with it, sir? It is a little strange…"

"Why, Hogwart's founders, of course." the ancient wizard chuckled.

"Ravenclaw and those other… humans…?

"Those are our founders." Albus' eyes twinkled through his crescent glasses when a familiar sound reached him.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock… _

Hardly bothering to look at the intruder, Albus asked in his usual cheerful

voice; "What do you want this time?"

The man in the yellow suit didn't answer at once, instead inspecting the now frozen in time

Crepsley-boy in an interesting manner. "I always pride myself at my

workings, don't you agree, Albus?"

"What do you mean, Desmond?" Albus' asked cautiously.

"This boy is one of my allies. A most reluctant one, sure, but he still would

obey my every word."

"I thought you ruled the, what was it, Little People?"

"Yes, those too. But the vampires have a frightened respect for me, and

most find it best to obey."

"That boy is just as much of a vampire as I am."

"At the moment. He _was _a vampire, but now he's been turned into a human.

You should keep watch of him." Desmond suggested.

"Does it have anything to do with the prophecy?"

"What prophecy?"

"The one of Harry and Voldemort."

"Voldemort." Desmond chuckled. "That guy's such a riddle. But to answer

your question; yes, this boy and his friends are going to play an important

role in future events."

He left without another word, much to Albus' annoyance; one wasn't

supposed to apparate in or out of Hogwarts, it was preposterous, really.

"Professor… What are you doing?" Larten had, quite obviously, gotten back into time, quite confused to see the headmaster in a completely different place.

"Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking. Old men do that sometimes."

"Seba most certainly do…" the boy muttered.

"Who does?"

"Seba. He is… Um… It is complicated."

Albus threw an eye at his watch; my, it was getting late. "You ought to be headed back to your dormitory; it's getting late."

"Yes, headmaster."

He eagerly left the room; and the silver-haired man sat down again, sighing quietly.

**Author's note: **

**I'll do better the next chapter, I promise. **


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